“You’re the one who talked all that shit about making me a cream puff.” As I reach to unbutton my shirt, I choke on my saliva. “A cream puff? Jesus, Cora.” “What?” “Nothing.” I chuckle, discarding my shirt and pulling back the covers to slide in beside her. “I just don’t think I’m going to be able to have brunch with my mum tomorrow, is all. She loves cream-filled pastries.”
